Rohn Federbush - Sally Bianco 02 - The Appropriate Way by Rohn Federbush

Tony suffered. It was sadly simple, he wanted to survive, so he limited his emotional range.
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    First Thursday in January
    Recovering from her memories of Tony and her teenage crush on Art, Sally surveyed the masculine front room of her new husband’s house, their home. The black leather couch was huge and comfortable. The ceiling-high stone fireplace dominated the room. Jarring modern art canvases on the opposite wall provided the only color. She should think about making some changes if she wanted to feel at home here. “Coffee,” she begged and John responded in a short time with a full cup.
    “Did you microwave it?” Sally asked.
    “No, I set up the coffee maker earlier. You seem to inhale coffee. I just needed to plug it in.”
    “Thank you. Microwave coffee lacks the aroma of newly brewed coffee.”
    John got cozy on the couch with her again. “So tell me again about Sheriff Woods and the Montgomerys.”
    Sally groaned. “I rather talk to you about redecorating.”
    “Another touchy subject.” John described where he bought the modern art, who the painters were, how much the artwork cost, into an entire soliloquy of his love of art. Poor Sally could not concentrate. Her mind roved teenage recesses, dragging out old memories of Jill and Tony and the promise to buy a car to visit Art.
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    November 1958
    Sally thought her peach linen suit ought to do the trick. Taking a deep breath, she straightened the shoulder strap of her purse. After standing in line to make deposits each week, she knew where to find the loan desk. Mr. Westland, the loan officer, was acquainted with her father and Jack Stone, her boss at DuKane. “Good morning, Sally. What can we do for you?”
    “I don’t want you to call my father to co-sign for a car loan.” Sally eased into the arm-less chair next to his desk, one foot behind the other for balance, back straight. “Mr. Stone’s private secretary should be able to afford car payments on a used car. How long will it take before the bank will approve my loan?” She had practiced the speech in front of her mirror at home five times.
    Without letting his good-natured smile falter, Mr. Westland tapped his pen on a small note pad. “Have you picked out the car?”
    “The Naylor’s Chevy is two years old.” She couldn’t remember the price of the car.
    “Sally, you’ve done your homework.” Mr. Westland said. “Before you sign the papers out at Naylor’s, they’ll call me. We need the vehicle registration number. Give me your social security number for the loan.”
    Trying not to seem too childishly elated, she thanked him and walked out of the bank. Loretta waited to drive her to the dealership, where an older salesman made the call to Mr. Westland. Sally had nervously smiled as he nodded at her, still talking on the phone to Westland. After a lot of paperwork and a promise to return with the bank’s check, the salesman handed Sally the keys to her first car.
    Sally called Art as soon as she rushed into the house after parking the white and blue Chevy next to her father’s paint truck behind the house. “I bought a car, Art!”
    “So your mother won’t worry,” he said, not sounding nearly as giddy as she felt. “Tell them you’re bringing me home from school.”
    “Oh, Art!”
    “Tony couldn’t survive school without Jill. I’m coming home, too.”
    “How’s your dad taking it?”
    “I only talked to Mother.” Sally thought she heard Art’s voice break as he hung up.
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    Down in Lincoln, Sally stopped her car at the same spot Jill parked two weeks earlier. A freak snowfall iced the green campus. Barren elms stood along the empty sidewalk. Art hugged Sally before she stepped into his room. Tony’s side of the room was empty, the mattress bare. “His father came for him.” Art said, before she could ask.
    “He loved her, then.”
    “If that’s love, I never want to fall in love.” He held Sally by the